Fickle

rhymes with pickle.

So.  After telling myself that I was just going to *rent* again, I found a pretty rental property that just happens to be for sale.  And it seems to be in a desirable location.  Maybe.  Which is sort of exciting and sort of gives me a headache at the same time.  Or maybe that’s from speed-reading the last 7 chapters of the Nolo guide to buying a house, which reminded me that I practically need a whole soccer team of people working for me if I want to buy.  The good news is that they’ve extended the first-time buyer’s credit into April of 2010.  So, theoretically, I could still find a house, buy it, and claim the credit.  Woo?  Tentatively, woo.

Honestly, I don’t think I want to afford the rental on my own.  It’s $475 more than I’m paying right now – I was hoping to reduce my rent so I could save some more $, not increase it exponentially.  Since it was in a location that might work for both of us, I forwarded the listing to Oberon – he’s been talking about moving, too.  The poster removed that listing and I thought, ah well, I missed the boat on that property.  And then I saw it had been re-posted.  I think in the several days that passed between postings, I’d kind of discounted it as an actual possibility, so I was surprised when O. said he’d contacted the poster for more information.  Initiative!  Does that mean you’re actually interested in it, too, O.?  The poster sent more pictures and asked if O. was looking to rent or purchase – hey, wait, the house is for SALE?  I checked out the listing on zillow and couldn’t figure out what the asking price was – they list it as a range.  Not that price isn’t negotiable, but still, it’s nice to have a semi-solid starting place to work from (and have an idea as to what’s in/out of range budgetwise).

I expressed my excitement over the possible house rental to my folks and they immediately started worrying on my behalf – letting me know in no uncertain terms that they thought it would be extremely…unwise to rent something I couldn’t afford on my own (and, I guess, count on someone else to contribute to the rent).  And, honestly?  I’m sort of irritated by their reaction.  I’m not really that reckless.  Currently, I’m not pleased, and regretting that I mentioned it at all.

I did email the poster back to ask her a few questions.  I’m still undecided about the renting vs buying.  I did finally email a local mortgage broker about the Mortgage 101 class his firm offers (I heard about this back in September, and have been thinking about it ever since) – hoping to attend not this, but next Monday night.  May try to see the house in the interim so that I can either fall in love with it or get it out of my system – either option is fine by me.  If the class seems good and I like the brokerage, I’ll see about getting pre-approved for a loan – so that I at least *look* serious to sellers and real estate agents.  And then, I guess, the next step is to get an agent and look around some more – if I’m still interested in buying.

Monkeybaby has mentioned that she and Mr. Monkeybaby have been looking at homes.  Maybe I’ll see if I can tag along with them if they’re going to look at anything anytime soon.  They, at least, seem to know what they’re doing – whereas I do not.

***

I saw CSE Cooney today for our Cold Comfort Farm and French toast date.  We, or rather *I* decided to skip the French toast, as dad made me crepes for breakfast and I was syrup-ed out.  We had toasted cheese sandwiches instead – and sassage, and guacamole and chips, and crackers, and berries, and fizzy cherry juice, and grapefruit juice, and tea.  (*pant pant*)  And it was divine.  We also watched Return to Me, which I hadn’t seen before.  And it made me cry a lot.  There was an Irish-Italian restaurant in it, a tragedy, a gaggle of quirky old men, and David Duchovny.  CSEC *loved* Cold Comfort Farm, almost beyond my expectations.  And I got to experience that little thrill I get when the people I like love the same things I do, for the same reasons.  I let her hold onto my dvd, so she can bring it to CA next week and watch it with *her* deer friend (possibly *also* with that little thrill).  And we did that thing where we talk about books and things and get totally distracted by our various tangents and wind up on topics unexpected and unanticipated!  I also get a little thrill out of this getting acquainted thing, because even though we were introduced several years ago, it wasn’t until this past year that CSEC and I have actually spent time getting to know one another – and we have so much to say, because we’re in that discovery period where we either exclaim over how much we have in common or have to exchange all of our favorite things that the other person has yet to experience.  “Oh, you simply must try this!”  More than one of my favorite things are still on O.’s to-read shelf, so those will have to wait.

***
It’s getting indecently late.  I shall sleep now.

Nostralgia

nostalgia for nostrils?  or a particular longing for a certain aroma?

Consider me

freaked the hell out by home ownership.  Like, enough not to do it until my nest egg is a bit larger.  Ah well.  Still, I do need to find a new place to live because of location, location, LOCATION!  And that sort of thing.  Ok, really?  It’s my new neighbors.  I didn’t realize that having the art guy who used his apartment as a studio/office mostly was a blessing in disguise.  He was so quiet I never ever heard him.  And the people who moved in are so loud, I hear them all the time (and they’ve only been here since last week).  They slam doors, stay up all night, listen to everything LOUDLY, drink, smoke – you know, because they’re so much fun – and FIGHT.  Yay.  They inspired me to stay up into the wee hours of the morning the other night (and by “inspired” I mean they kept me up) going through my bookshelves  and weeding my collection in anticipation of moving in Freakin’ February.

But it’s not only them.  It’s the bar next door.  It’s the karaoke place that closed.  It’s the people who hang out in the driveway.  It’s the idiots who run around screaming in the middle of the night.  It’s the police who never really do anything about any of it.  It’s a little bit of annoyance over never getting a parking space in the mini lot behind the building *where* I live, even though I’ve probably been here the longest now.  It’s a lot of irritation over the laundry facilities, which, although conveniently located in our basement do not actually get my clothes clean or dry.  It’s the fact that my landlords lived here for approximately 6 months before getting the hell out themselves – without building that fence that they’d promised was coming (which was going to revolutionize our apartment living experience – no, really).  I love my space, and even the location, but I hate the irritations that the location inspires.

I think deciding *not* to decide on a house has made me a bit less anxious.  But I’m still full of…I don’t know…all kinds of useless energy to put into packing and moving – because I’m ready *now* in my mind.  I’m like this about most projects – I want to work on whatever it is that I’m thinking about Right Now, as opposed to whenever it’s actually time.  I’m about a month early, in this case.  My lease is at a rather inconvenient time, though, and no one looking to rent their houses/apartments now wants to hear, well, how about February 1st?  Mid-January is when I should be ready to go.  But now is when I’m ready to look.  Meh.

So I just saw an ad for a house out here – it looks like the owners/landlords have been working on it – inside pictures are really nice.  It’s further into town, in a part I haven’t explored much, but the rent is less than what I’m paying now (no utilities included, which is probably fine, as it’s almost $100 less than my current arrangement – and I’ll get an idea of how much utilities would be for a house of my own).  I’m curious enough to do a drive-by.  I also saw a house in C-ville that looks fantastic, and it’s right off the park.  Which…could be great, and could be awful.  I dunno.  But it’s not feasible, really, unless I get a housemate.  I don’t really think I want to afford $1350 a month on my own.  That’s not going to help me with the nest egg.  There’s an other place that’s a couple of blocks from here, that has an enclosed porch – 1-bdrm, so maybe a little less space (not like I’m using all my space now!), that’s intriguing.  It’s far enough away from all the Action, I think, but close enough (almost) to walk all my stuff over.  Heh.  Might look into that, too.

Off for the next three days, so I can totally worry all of this around in my head.  Yay?  It would be so wonderful if I could get this all worked out right away.  I’m even willing to splurge a bit (for my sanity) and start my rental January 1st, if necessary.  I’ll have oodles of time to move things, then.

***

Thanks to another inappropriate nap (taken between 6-8pm) this evening, I’m now wide awake.  BOING.  Good thing I have so many things to read, because it’s unlikely I’m going to be tired any time soon.

Squishmas musings

It was the day after Squishmas and all through my head, ran thoughts of old friendships and things that we’d said…  So to those who are closer to heart than by car – I squish you all virtually, wherever you are!

CSEC and I were talking about good touch (like back rubs, massage therapy, etc.) and how we are gluttons for giving and receiving.  She is trained in the actual arts of massage, and mentioned she uses her skills for her own nefarious purposes.  Having been on the receiving end of others’ abuse/misuse of those particular powers, I can’t say that it’s all bad.  *grin*  I spent an evening playing with C’s hair and it reminded me of how I used to rub my friend’s head while we were watching TV.  He shaved his head in the summer, because it was easier to take care of peach fuzz than it was hair (he ran fanatically), and it was just so soft and so soothing – evidently for both of us.  He was the best roommate ever – as meticulous and clean as I was (if not more), never ate my broccoli (he said it was like eating the souls of little trees), very platonically snuggly, always up for a game of basketball or a walk in the middle of the night.  I was upset about something one night and we ended up wandering over to the soccer field and looking at the sky for a few hours and talking about Life, the Universe, and Everything.  It was so conveniently companionable and easy.  And it never had to be arranged 3 weeks in advance, like seeing people does now.  I mention it not as a complaint so much as a nostalgia for that time and that feeling.  He’s one of the only people ever that almost immediately upon meeting I felt like I’d already known my whole life.  I’m still not sure exactly how he managed to do that.  Occasionally we check in with one another to see how it’s going – what, if any, significant others have wormed their ways into our lives, how the trek is going along the paths we’ve chosen/are walking along.  He definitely made me feel like it was ok to be seeking all the time, to not be sure, to still be figuring things out – because he was doing the same thing.

Thinking about MW made me think about OS, because OS introduced us the summer we all lived together.  OS was very practical and rational and had his head together – knew what he was going to do, had a plan.  I met him in the TV lounge in our dorm, late one night, when neither of us could sleep.  I’d just broken up with N and wasn’t sleeping well at all, and OS was watching Highlander.  He half-turned toward me and asked if I wanted to hear about the woman who’d broken his heart.  I said, “Sure.”  And that was that.  Funny, I don’t really remember much else about that conversation – like if he actually told me about the woman then, or if it was later over the years that we knew each other.  When we weren’t living in the same place, he would call sometimes and upon signing off he’d say, “I love you,” which is something I’ve only ever said before with ease to my GRANDMOTHER, even though I’ve felt it a myriad of ways for many people.  OS made it easy to say back to him.  I sometimes wonder why it is so hard for me to say otherwise.

I squish PP and AR and ALVJ and remember our crepe breakfasts, trips to Cincinnati, adventures around the track in the wee hours of the morning in the dead of winter.  And I squish CH and AB and MM and wish they were around to crochet and knit and bake cookies and fix meals with me.

And because CSEC mentioned pastry fairies, I squish JL and JS who brought me an enormous cookie monster cookie (blue frosting and eyeballs and all) in the rain one afternoon, because they borrowed my umbrella to go grocery shopping and thought I deserved something in return.  You can stop by with cookies ANYTIME.

I also squish Oberon who squished and ran this morning because he had other Pressing Engagements.  I’m glad you’re a part of my life.

Josh Groban redux

Where I whine about Josh Groban again.

One of the ladies who teaches our water aerobics class has this…thing for Josh Groban’s music.  It is a thing that I do not in any way shape or form share.  And I could stand it (really) if she didn’t make such a big production out of it every time The Song comes on.  I have mentioned this before.

But!  A few months ago, our Groban-Infatuated-Instructress announced that her CD copy of whatever-the-hell-it-was had developed an issue.  A jump, a skip, an imperfection (which I’d never noticed, because I was trying as hard as I could to BLOCK IT OUT).  PK was at class that night and she shot me a look (I’ve also mentioned this to *her* before) and bounced over to comment, “I bet you’re thrilled.”  I WAS.  Absolutely, totally, completely thrilled.  This is not the most tech-savvy lady, so it was unlikely that she’d obtain another copy of The Song anytime soon.  I thought I was saved.  My spirits lifted.  I didn’t dread the end of class.  I didn’t dread the days she taught.  Not that I’m consumed with dread, generally…mostly it’s a low-key state of perpetual annoyance.  Can’t beat that for entertainment.

And then she got a New Song.  Not the same one, but ANOTHER Josh Groban song.  And she has felt compelled to choreograph yet another cool down to it.  And she points out how we have had him Restored to us.  We shall have our time with Josh once again.  Worst of all, she notes, while we’re stretching, where the climax of the song occurs – referring to it as the crescendo.  As in, “Here’s the crescendo!”  As if we were all waiting for it.  As if we needed to be told.  It’s things like these that irritate me most.  If she’d just leave it be and not make such a big deal out of it, I’d be so much happier.  Let me enjoy whatever music I want to enjoy, and don’t tell me when, how, and where I should be enjoying it.  And don’t EVER make me dance/swim synchroniciously to something I hate.

I am full of hate for things this week.  But not Big Things, just petty annoyances.  It’s kind of fun.  Je deteste!

Au revoir, El Capitán

I felt like I’d chosen the “fun” table.  And then I realized that I was at least 1/2 of the fun at the “fun” table.  So, actually, I’d brought it with me.  And that was a good feeling.  Then I wondered if that’s always the case – that the “fun” table becomes fun because I’m there.  Or am I too busy having fun at my table to notice whether any other tables are also “fun?”  Over-thinking this is not “fun,”  by the way.  And then I knocked my drink over because I was gesticulating wildly.  Someone remind me to sit on my hands.

Our director is retiring, and tonight was her going away party – a potluck, thrown in her honor.  I was off today, but felt like it was one of those things I ought to go to.  Surprisingly, there were a number of people who did *not* feel that way.  C., who I saw at Target this morning did not show, nor did most of the YS department.  I’m pretty sure everyone from Circulation was there, and almost all of Reference (except C., as noted, and PC, who is out of town).  It was absolutely a good time, which also surprised me.  Our former RA person who retired about a year ago came back for the party, and we had a Very Intense Discussion about audiobooks we’ve loved (and the newest Margaret Atwood, which she couldn’t get into – I tried Oryx and Crake about a year ago and couldn’t get into that, and she said it was similar…I also didn’t much care for Atwood’s classic, The Handmaid’s Tale, which is a little weird, because I usually really like dystopian futures – as literature – I wasn’t thrilled with the leading lady, or the ending).  And it was really good to see her, because when she isn’t in a foul mood, she’s a lot of fun to talk with.  A. sat next to me and told me I needed to stop complaining about *that* book – the one I’ve been hating on all week (that would be Jinx, not the Margaret Atwood titles mentioned above).  I think it’s nearly out of my system.  Oh, plus, I’ll be seeing New Moon tomorrow…so yeah, I’ll probably have something new to hate.  *grin*  Don’t tell my teens.

M. brought LASAGNA – two different kinds, and someone else made a pierogi-like lasagna as well.  AND there was garlic bread.  I’ve been craving both (lasagna and garlic bread) all week, so this was like kismet.  Or, I read the list of what everyone was bringing (cuz it was hanging on the fridge in our break room), and was duly influenced.  I did not try D.’s white chicken chili, or the potato soup (which looked really good).  And none of the desserts were anything I really like.  I’d have been disappointed, except that I’d brought my own ginger cookies (with ginger!) and they were divine.  I also made sure plenty of them were eaten by people other than me.  There are still plenty for Oberon to munch on when I see him.  Yay!  This means I do not have to make snickerdoodles tomorrow, which is good, because I will likely be tired, very tired, when I get home.

Tomorrow is SQUISHMAS!  O. and I have been working on our own calendar of holidays, because so many of the existing ones are not things that we feel strongly about or care to celebrate.  Squishmas is a time of SQUISHING!  You should squish those you love, adore, admire, are fond of (who are within squishing distance).  If you cannot squish in person, you may squish virtually.  But squish, and squish again!  I think it’s a most excellent holiday.  I think Squishmas will fall regularly on the 3rd Saturday of November every year.

My knee is a little achy, so I wrapped an ice pack around it, and one of those stretchy resistance bands around that (to keep it from sliding off).  The ends of the band are hanging down where Powder bunny can reach them, and I’d forgotten just how much he loves those bands.  He will take the end and streeeeeeeeeeeeeeetch it out.  Must feel good to bunny teeth/jaws.  He has just tried to run off with it, and bounced back.  Silly bun.

I read a really bad book

Jinx
Meg Cabot

Jean Honeychurch, also known as Jinx (because everything that can go wrong does, whenever she’s around), moves to New York to live with her relatives after breaking up with a guy from her hometown (in Iowa) who won’t take no for an answer.  Her cousin Tory, whom Jinx remembers fondly from several years ago, is a completely different person – beautiful, sophisticated, worldly, and also, really, really mean.  For no good reason.  After Jinx saves hot next-door neighbor, Zach, from being hit by a bike messenger (she takes the hit herself), Tory warms up unexpectedly.  She confides that she is a practicing witch, and believes Jinx may also have inherited powers from a common ancestor – Bronwyn.  When Jinx refuses to join her coven, and warns Tory not to use her magic for evil, however, Tory decides to make Jinx’s life miserable.  It doesn’t help that Tory has feelings for Zach, who obviously prefers Jinx.

Jinx interferes in Tory’s plans – binding her so that she can’t hurt anyone else with her magic.  Tory retaliates by using “normal” means to harass and threaten the people she sees as obstacles to her plans.  She takes every opportunity to hurt and humiliate Jinx, and this culminates in her attempt to steal Jinx’s powers by drinking her blood.  Having finally gone too far, Tory is shipped off to boot camp (in Iowa of all places), and Jinx remains in New York on scholarship, having finally embraced her powers and the fact that Zach likes her.

I absolutely hated this book, and that’s something I very rarely say/feel about anything I read.  I listened to the audio book edition, and I had to fast-forward through several scenes because I just couldn’t stand listening to Jinx/Jean bemoan her fate (and Tory’s evil plans) anymore.  It’s difficult to develop any sympathy for Jean because she has this gloomy Eeyore attitude – “Everything always happens to ME.”  She blames herself for everything, too, apologizes for everything, and she’s completely clueless about Zach’s feelings for her (common trope for a romance).  It gets really old.  Then there’s cousin Tory, who apparently used to be nice, but has undergone this transformation into Complete Psychopathic Wench from Hell.  Seriously, no one is this unrelentingly evil and manipulative (unless you make the case that Tory is actually mentally ill – which no one ever does).  Zach, an affable character whom we’re supposed to like as much as Jean and Tory do, is much less appealing because it’s impossible to understand what he sees in Jean – she’s so incredibly annoying!  It also feels like Jean is keeping secrets from her readers (as well as everyone else) throughout her story, because the big revelations – that she has powers, that she’s used them before, that she’s guilty of misusing them like Tory – pretty much happen for readers when everyone else in the book finds out.  What’s the use of being trapped in her ridiculous, annoying thoughts all the time if she’s never going to let us in?  Don’t even get me started on Jean’s struggle for self-acceptance and witchy empowerment.  Whatever.  She won’t embrace her powers, oh no!  She’s still really freaky powerful, though – yay!  She finally accepts who she is!  Enough!  Let’s never, ever, ever revisit this story again.  I’ve liked others of Meg Cabot’s novels – the first couple Princess Diaries, and Avalon High – so I was pretty shocked to have loathed this one so very much.

The continued adventures of the Urban Squirrels!

I popped out my back door this morning to toss out some rabbit refuse (I cleaned cages this morning in a frenzied state at 6:30 upon awakening) and surprised an urban squirrel, which was running up the wooden support beam that runs the length of all the balconies.  It had a bag of McDonald’s food in its mouth.  I kid you not.  The bag was almost bigger than the squirrel.  I can only conclude that someone sent that squirrel out for Egg McMuffins.  I bet that’s a lot easier than burying stuff only to forget where you put it and STARVE.  I say “someone,” and by that I mean somesquirrel…but I wonder how difficult it would be to train them to run out to McDonald’s for *me*?  I can just crochet a little squirrel-vest-backpack and stuff a $5 bill in there, then send the squirrel to Mickey D’s and it’ll bring back a bag of salty goodness…in its teeth.  Of course, it’s getting cold out, now, and the temperature of the fries might suffer the lengthy…er…scamper back to my domicile.  Might not be worth it.  I really like my fries hot.

I kind of liked

the ability to add whatever widgets to my wordpress when I was hosting it elsewhere…but the hosting elsewhere was annoying (or the hosting in that particular where).  This thought flickered through my brain as I was waiting for the “Add New Post” page to load.  Loooooaaaaaading.

I had a nap today.  It was delightful.  But prior to the napping…I went to and bounced around a lot at water aerobics, then went upstairs (ostensibly to woman an elliptical trainer, but alas, none were available) and rode a bike, and then stretched for a really long time.  There was one of those guys there (with girlfriend/wife) who feels compelled to “train” his significant other.  This always annoys me – even if it doesn’t annoy her.  He made her do endless push-ups, and crunches, and everything chop!chop!faster!  And he had bad form, and was yanking on his neck a lot, and his excessive force could easily have caused injury to himself.  And when *she* said something that I didn’t quite catch, he reprimanded her and said if she wanted to have a hot body she would have to work hard.  Like she wasn’t already.  And then he told her to do 50 more crunches.  And I almost kicked him accidentally on-purpose.

At the woods: It was my plan to stop home briefly and then head out to the woods…but I had lunch instead and then a 2 hour nap and THEN went to the woods.  The woods got dark.  DARK.  And foreboding (FOREBODING).  And the geese called and the SANDHILL CRANES also called…burbled, rather.   And I was much pleased.  I am cheered pretty much any time I hear the burbling of cranes.

A puppy outpaced me – dragging his person along behind him.  Puppies.Must.Be.FIRST!  I know this from experience.  My puppies have always always wanted to scout.  Not necessarily lead – they are happy to follow my lead and shouted instructions when I decide I want to turn – but they do like to have plenty of time and space to sniff and leap and run and Exercise Puppy Joy.  Exuberance is what I love most about dogs.  I’ve probably overromanticized it.

There was only one snake sunning itself this time – not so strange, since there was little sun.  In fact…it might have been dead.  There was another dead-for-sure snake corpse a ways after that.  No woolly bears.  I was passed by a large Indian family madly peddling away on bikes, and then two more family members running.  I heard the runners approaching, and moved over for them, but they ran right off the trail and into some tall grasses, where they could be seen to be relieving themselves.  I was kind of surprised that they didn’t try to hide themselves better, and thought, “there are all kinds of toilets here…why don’t they use one of…”  But there really weren’t any that were nearby, and it’s something I would have done, too (and did do only a few days ago at the park when I discovered the bathrooms were locked for the season), if I’d had to go badly enough (except I’d have chosen a more private venue).  They caught up with me again, presumably carrying a lighter load.

Drove the wrong way in my search for headphones and athletic shoes.  I thought the plazas of shopping which I sought were south of where I was, and instead they were north.  TENTACLES!  (that’s an epithet, btw)  The thing about shopping plazas, however, is that there are ALWAYS more.  I tried on a lot of shoes, but none of them were very comfortable.  I have enjoyed this current pair so much that the soles are almost worn through in places, but I didn’t see any more of that variety (or an up-graded model).  *sigh*  The ones that were almost ok were orange and silver (questionably, so), and $75.  And while I would pay $75 for shoes, I’d better really like them.  And I didn’t like these.  Headphones.  Yes, well.  They have been the bane of my existence since I mistakenly thought the pair I’d gotten from my brother (which I loved) had broken.  Instead I’d accidentally hit the switch on my player that tries to normalize everything you’re hearing (which essentially made everything really really quiet – shhhhh…).  So I threw out the headphones and bought new ones.  Which were *also* really quiet.  And that’s when I became perplexed.  And shortly thereafter, my brother pointed out that switch.  And then I wanted to scream a lot, because the Best Headphones In The World (possibly the Known Universe), were long gone.  None that I’ve tried since then have really lived up to those standards.  Anyway.  I’ve had some that came with my CD walkman that I got ages ago that have been mostly ok (except that they were totally bent out of shape), until this past week when one side stopped working.  And, yes, it’s actually the headphones that are the problem this time.  So I got a couple of replacements to try out.  I’m pretty sure one will work out for sure, and the other one hearkens back to the design of the Best Headphones In The World, and if *those* work…oh, I don’t know how I will express my happiness.  Perhaps I will don my jellyfish pants and sting the crap out of everyone I meet.  Mm.  Jolly stinging!

Flu-ish

Still ill.  How annoying is that?  I thought I had a sinus infection starting the Friday before last (October 30th)- because I kept sneezing and had the sore throat and the stuffy nose/head.  I sort of downplayed the part where I was feverish and tired…and I’m still really tired.  No energies!  I have been dragging myself out of the house to go for walks – the weather’s been so nice – and I’ll get about a mile out and feel completely pooped…and then just sort of trudge the rest of the way around and home.  It feels a little drifty, floaty.  Haven’t been going to water aerobics because of the Mucus Effect.  It’s just not practical to stuff facial tissues in my bathing suit and count on it being useful to me once class is in session.  Moist.  I’m also relatively sure my delightful wracking cough is only delightful to *me* and will not find favor in the eyes of my classmates.  This is what I tell myself, anyway, when I try and talk myself into going.  The reality is that I’m too tired right now…and I don’t think it will do me much good until I can get through the day without needing a nap time.  I’m even taking naps when I get home from work…and they DON’T interfere with my normal sleep.  Does this mean my body is *fighting* off invaders left and right?  I hope so.  I’d better have some serious antibodies to show for all of this illness.  In the meantime, I’m going to pick up some stock in Kleenex and Halls, and while I’m at it, I should probably get some more orange juice.

Wrote a eulogy for a friend of mine who was celebrating her birthday by having a death day party…a “Mourning Soiree,” I believe is what she called it.  It would have been cool to get some pictures of her “dying” in horrible ways, but she was more inclined to do herself in through drink, so I wound up not getting any pictures.  Oberon and I had talked about putting together a book of the eulogies and pictures that would be similar to the one Amanda Palmer did.  If one’s going to have a mourning soiree, one should have a memento, right?  Alas.  It was good seeing people, and getting to wear part of my jellyfish costume again.  I decided I don’t really like the top (so I’m going to consign it to Goodwill), but I LOVE the pants.  I’m considering making another pair – black this time, with orange and red and yellow “tentacles,” like flames!  O. teased me about my flamboyant, swishy walking when I wear the tentacles.  If *you* were wearing the pants, though, you’d be swishy, too.

Had some thoughts and made some notes about some writing ideas (too tired to act on them at the moment).  I’m both inspired and a wee bit jealous that so many of my friends and acquaintances are doing NaNoWriMo.  It makes me want to do it, too…but that’s been the kiss of death every other time I’ve officially signed up to do it.  So, as soon as I *do* have some energy, I’m going to pretend like I’m just playing with some of those ideas and definitely not writing a novel or anything so serious as that.  I may, by doing so, be able to trick myself into writing something novel-length.  And then I don’t have to have the frustration and guilt over not having accomplished what I set out to do.  This is all just mental trickery, you know.  And I think I’m starting to sound like my brother…which means I’m making more excuses than is necessary, and just need to sit down and do whatever it is that needs to be done.

Speaking of doing things…I wonder if it’s possible to bring my laptop to the gym and use it while I’m on the elliptical trainer.  That’d be sort of ideal…seeing as I’m always annoyed by any inactivity I indulge in after being mostly sedentary at work during the day.  I’ll look into it.

Just installed Windows 7 on the laptop (since we’re talking about laptops).  I haven’t made a study of it.  It seems to work similarly to Vista (which is what was on here before), and lacks a few of the irritations I noticed with that OS.  I have a Sony Vaio, and I think the accompanying driver/program updating disc-y-doodle has installed a bunch o’ stuff that I didn’t necessarily want or need…but I don’t have time now to go through and play with everything to find out just how useful and indispensable these things will become to me.  I’d been holding off installing much of anything, since I got the laptop in…September?  End of August?  And it came with the upgrade to Windows 7 (get out of jail!) option – to be released in October (the discs arrived first week of November) – so I didn’t want to install a bunch of stuff that I’d later have to RE-install.  As it turns out, I wasn’t able to figure out how to restart the system/disc to get the option to repartition my hard drive (so I guess there’s still the “recovery” partition, which is somewhat irksome – but in a back of my head this will annoy me if I think about it too much way), so I ended up doing an “upgrade” from Vista instead of a new installation.  Mostly, I’ve just become a control freak in terms of what I want loaded on my system, how my resources are managed, how things should be organized, etc.  I don’t really like it when programs/people/organizations take this responsibility (and ability) away from me.  So, if I decide that it annoys me enough to figure out how to do it, then I will.  I’m sure all I have to do is consult my brother, who at one time mentioned some hidden utility in XP…so either I’ll remember on my own what it was he was talking about, or I’ll call him up and say, “So.  I have this Thing.  And I need some Help.”  And he’ll tell me exactly what I need to know in 2 hours or less!

Today he regaled me with his Thoughts on Pizza Construction and Ordering.  I was in DP overnight (because I was too tired to drive all the way home – am I starting to sound like a broken record?), and stuck around to chat with D. and clean my fish tank (which my folks refuse to let me take down, but then harass me about when I don’t show up regular-like to clean).  D. went out to get us lunch at Al & Nancy’s, and came back with a pizza for himself.  It was bacon-pepperoni-spinach…and the spinach was a surprise because D. hadn’t ordered it.  The woman at the register said she’d “misunderstood”  him.  Not sure how you get “spinach” out of “I never mentioned anything LIKE spinach when I ordered that pizza,” but as D. tells it, there were several other things that she also misunderstood/got wrong.  The amount of spinach on the pizza was such that they probably could have written it off as “whoops, how did that get on there?” than as an actual, intended (and ordered) topping.  It was really good, though.  And I was surprised by that, because I’m pretty sure O. has said that Nancy’s pizza is not all that.  We got to talking about Rosati’s, and my disappointing experience of a few weeks ago, when I ordered the “deep dish” (which is NOT the Chicago-style) mushroom and sausage.  It just…sucked.  The sauce wasn’t good, the sausage was mediocre…and I got the wrong kind of crust.  D. said that he gets pizzas from Rosati’s all the time, but tends to order the “garbage” ones – because the stuff overwhelms the sauce (and apparently some of it is good enough to actually flavor the pizza, unlike the combination I chose).  But pizza quality varies from location to location.  And even then, if you don’t order the *right* thing, you can get a bad pie.  I’m going to be avoiding Rosati’s for the foreseeable future and go back to picking up my Chicago-style deep dish pizzas from the grocery store (they’ve got Uno’s and Giordano’s, I believe – both of which I’ve enjoyed).  And for local stuff?  I guess I’ll visit the Pizza Hut, which has had surprisingly good pizzas the last few times I’ve ordered from there.

And now?  My eulogy.  And bed.

Mistress Ninian

Her wicked smile, her peerless glee

Her suitors draped across her knee

Another there shall never be

Mistress Ninian

Climbing up the winding stair

With crimson pigtails in her hair

She leaves her minions in her lair

Mistress Ninian

She bursts into a winter night

Her tattoos blurring in her flight

Passing through a spectral light

Mistress Ninian

Across the frosted ground she flees

Into the shade of crooked trees

Beneath their branches does she squeeze

Mistress Ninian

Alas! She caught her lovely toe

On what we prolly ne’er will know

A trip, a fall, an undertow…

Mistress Ninian

A splashing, dashing icy creek

Burbling, gurgling water-speak

The future’s looking pretty bleak for

Mistress Ninian

Dragged down beneath the silver ripples

To break, to bruise, to maim, to cripple

She scrapes her nose, she scars her nipples

Mistress Ninian

She met her doom without delay

As other maidens washed away

Ophelia and Shalott, and now the fey

Mistress Ninian

Gather we to sing her praise

Offer up these humble phrase

May they up her spirit raise

Mistress Ninian